Doug Paisley – s/t

Doug Paisley - s/t

Doug Paisley - s/t

Doug Paisley would love to be mentioned in the same breath as Will Oldham and William Elliott Whitmore.  He even sounds somewhat like a cross between the two.  He’s got the backwoods folk singer/songwriter thing on lockdown, but there’s just something missing here.

His honesty cannot be denied.  His vocals are so close that you can hear every sip of whiskey he’s ever taken, and they are delivered impeccably.  His songwriting is as interesting as folk could possibly be and the accompanying instruments are on point.  All the parts add up like a math equation, but the resulting number just doesn’t make sense.

It may be because the sound itself is done to death.  Neil Young and The Band have done it with more raw energy (obviously at a time when this sort of thing was more original), Oldham and Whitmore have done it with more desperation and fucked up imagery, Iron & Wine and M. Ward have done it more accessibly…shit, even Wilco twisted it into avant garde masterpieces.  Doug Paisley is a talented cat without an angle at a time where you need to set yourself apart.

It’s unfortunate because he really does have a knack for writing melodies and dressing them up nicely, but when you finish listening to this album, you remember nothing.  Doug Paisley is just an anomaly.  None of this makes sense, so I’m going to go listen to I See A Darkness and hope that Paisley might make something that fantastic one day.